


What We Do For Love

by roe87



Series: Bucky as a D.C. heroine au [1]
Category: Captain America (Comics), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: (not that dark), Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angst with a Happy Ending, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Dark, Doctor Bucky Barnes, Doctor/Patient, Dubious Ethics, Dubious Morality, Dystopia, Falling In Love, First Meetings, Flirting, Harley/Joker au, Hydra (Marvel), Implied Bottom Bucky Barnes, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Terrorism, Implied/Referenced Torture, Imprisonment, Light Angst, M/M, Nomad Steve Rogers, Politics, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Psychologists & Psychiatrists, Sassy Steve Rogers, Shy Bucky Barnes, Therapy, not graphic, political extremes, therapy sessions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-06
Updated: 2018-06-06
Packaged: 2019-05-18 23:00:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14861951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roe87/pseuds/roe87
Summary: Bucky Barnes is a psychiatrist.Nomad, a well known terrorist, is Bucky's new patient.As far as relationships go, it's not the most ideal start.





	What We Do For Love

**Author's Note:**

> While based in part on a DC comics story, this is a Steve/Bucky au about political views and the institution itself, not about abusive relationships (though, yes, there is a doctor/patient dynamic here).
> 
> The story this is based on is called [Mad Love](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Batman_Adventures:_Mad_Love).
> 
> ~
> 
> Many thanks to:  
> Splinteredwinter, and Velvetjinx for beta help, and artist Crow-sizna for this beautiful art piece! 
> 
> ~

Art by the amazing [crow-sizna](https://crow-sizna.tumblr.com)

 

 

  


 

_You don't own me_

_Don't try to change me in any way_

_You don't own me_

_Don't tie me down 'cause I'd never stay_

  


\- [Lesley Gore](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vNb-8gLcXLs)

  
  
  
  


 

Bucky Barnes was a professional.

That's why he wore sleek, tailored suits, kept his facial hair short and well groomed, and tied his long hair back neatly. Bucky liked order. That was why he worked for the government, for Shield, because they brought order.

Also, because they'd offered him a secure job after Bucky's career path took a one-eighty in his early twenties.

After going back to college to get his degree in psychiatric counselling, Bucky thought he'd have a steady job. Turned out he was wrong, and it was harder than he'd thought to get work when people kept recognising his face.

That was partly why he'd grown his hair longer, to look a little different from the bright, young gymnast he'd once been; the gymnast who'd injured his arm at the Olympics, disappointed his country and couldn't compete any more.

Bucky wanted a new life now, and the only work and anonymity he found was inside mental asylums.

But, despite being low-key bitter with life, Bucky was good at his job because he _did_ care about helping people, and helping them get better.

It could be draining, though. The clinical rooms, the smell of disinfectant. The lonely sobs or angry outbursts echoing down hallways. Bucky started to wonder if he'd ever escape mental asylums. So when a government agent called Pierce had started taking an interest in Bucky's rehabilitation methods, and offered him a job as lead clinical psychiatrist at a government facility, Bucky took it gladly.

The pay and benefits package were better, and he was invited to give talks at seminars with leaders in the field, talking over hors d’oeuvres and wine afterwards, and actually getting somewhere in his career.

Finally Bucky felt he had a job that his family would be proud of. Finally he wouldn't be their big disappointment.

One drawback to working for Shield, their coffee was the _worst_ he'd ever tasted.

Still, nothing was perfect.

And when Pierce asked him to take on a new patient, with a view to rehabilitating him back into work, Bucky agreed. It was his job to help people.

Pierce handed him a file, branded top secret, like a lot of the Shield files were. Bucky read through the file, and his eyebrows hiked up to his hairline.

 _Terrorist_ , the files said. _National security threat. Political zealot, expert tactician._

Codename, _Nomad_.

Bucky had heard of this guy. He'd been in the news a lot recently; one of those costumed vigilantes who held a vendetta against the government, and Shield in particular.

"Mr. Pierce," Bucky said, flipping through the file of Nomad's strikes against Shield, "I may be good, but if you want to rehabilitate someone this far gone... it could take a while."

"That's not a problem." Pierce smiled coldly. "This one isn't going anywhere.

"Well, okay," Bucky agreed, setting the file on his desk. "You got him in any other therapies yet?"

"That's classified for now," Pierce told him. "I'm expecting good results from you, James."

Bucky smiled back neutrally, and nodded his head. Pierce often gave him the creeps, but Bucky figured a lot of bosses were like that.

It was just the way things were.

  


Bucky went to meet his new patient the next day, walking to the secure interview rooms with his notepad and a pen, and waiting for the armed guards to open the cell door and let him in.

It seemed a little excessive, but Bucky had gotten used to Shield being over the top with security around this place. Some very dangerous and highly disturbed patients were treated here, so it was a necessary precaution. Bucky walked into the bare, stark room alone, with the door closing shut behind him.

His patient was a man, not much older than Bucky was, but it was hard to tell at a glance with all the shaggy, dirty blond hair that fell in his eyes, and the dark beard covering half his face.

The guy was _built_ , though—really stacked. He was strapped into a straight-jacket too, its metal restraints anchoring him to his chair, which was in turn secured to the floor.

He certainly wasn't going anywhere.

Bucky steeled his nerves and said, "Hello, Mr. Rogers," before pulling out the—regular—chair opposite. It scratched along the metal floor. Bucky sat down quick, set his notepad and pen on the table between them while he adjusted his chair and got comfortable.

At least his chair had some padding. The furnishings Shield used weren't known for their comfort.

When Bucky looked up, he saw that the patient had raised his head to watch him, and that his eyes were very blue.

He was also really handsome and, apparently, seeing a handsome, rugged beefcake strapped to a chair before him did things to Bucky, made his heart flutter a little.

Suddenly Bucky didn't feel as professional as he normally did. He opened his mouth to say something, but was momentarily at a loss for words.

Rogers quirked his eyebrow, and said, "You look kinda young to be a doctor."

His voice was deep, and had a hint of challenge in it, making Bucky sit up straighter in response.

"Do I," he replied, calm as he could manage. He picked up his notepad and pen, settled them on his lap as he crossed one leg over the other. "I'm Doctor James Barnes." Bucky glanced briefly at Rogers, then adjusted his glasses and opened his notepad. "And I'll be your clinical psychiatrist while we work through your issues."

This prompted a snort from Rogers, and when Bucky looked up at him, he caught the other man smiling at him wickedly.

Bucky's stomach did a little swoop, but he resolutely ignored the feeling, because he was a professional, dammit.

  


~

  


Steve Rogers was a vigilante.

He'd also been branded _terrorist_ , but only by the fascist dick-bags in power who didn't like him exposing their shady operations and their totalitarian regime for what they truly were.

Steve considered himself a freedom fighter. He always had, in a way; even back when he'd worked special ops and done a lot of shady things for Shield himself. Now he knew better. Now he knew that Shield, the government, couldn't be trusted, that they only cared about power, and that they used control methods and persecuted innocent lives in order to maintain that power.

Steve couldn't be a bystander to that any more. He wouldn't let them get away with it, which was why he'd started a vigilante group to protect innocent people from government bodies like ICE, or the police, and from being sent to prison in an unjust system, where poor people committing petty crimes in order to eat were unfairly punished compared to the rich who bought their way out.

No, Steve had sworn to help anyone he could. It was nothing for him to ambush ICE raids and get people to safety, or to break into government facilities and wipe out prison records for prisoners who shouldn't be imprisoned in the first place.

Steve had also blown up secret Shield facilities where he could, but they'd caught him eventually. Still, Steve refused to give up. He'd escape, or bide his time. He wouldn't break or yield information, he wouldn't give up his friends who were still out there fighting, and probably looking for him.

Steve would never give himself over to the government again, no matter what they tried to do; electro-shock therapy, torture, sleep deprivation, Shield had tried it all. Steve would not budge.

Then... then they sent _him_.

A beautiful young doctor who seemed oddly familiar, or maybe it was just his face. Dr. Barnes had movie star looks, and he wouldn't have looked out of place strutting down a catwalk, showing off his toned, fit body in tailored suits.

Which was kind of what he did anyway, Steve thought, and he couldn't help but watch Barnes whenever he moved, walking into the room for their sessions, walking out again when they finished. Strut, strut, turn.

Whenever Barnes walked away, Steve found that if he said something in parting, some quip or teasing remark, he could get Dr. Barnes to half turn, and give him a small smile.

Steve found, session by session, that he liked making Dr. Barnes smile. And he looked like a man who took life far too seriously and was in desperate need of smiling.

At first, Dr. Barnes had seemed shy, even a little uptight. But, after trying and failing not to react to Steve's snark and banter, he had started to smile.

Steve liked that.

And he found that Dr. Barnes made him smile too. He was sharp, intelligent, and despite clearly holding back because he was trying to be all distant and head-shrink Steve, occasionally Steve won him over and Barnes would crack a smile, or laugh heartily.

Sometimes he sighed and would reply honestly, letting Steve see part of the real man behind that uptight facade.

Because it _was_ a facade, Steve could tell. He hadn't stayed alive as long as he had in his line of work without learning how to read people; inside Dr. James Barnes was a free spirit desperate to break out.

  


~

  


Bucky was at his wit's end with his patient.

Steve Rogers was a Goddamn pain in the ass. Bucky could deal with mentally ill patients; he'd worked with and rehabilitated serial killers, cold blooded murderers, stalkers, kidnappers, and people with split personalities. He knew where he stood with those patients, and after a few years as their psychiatrist, their behavioural patterns were almost predictable.

Steve Rogers, though, he was different. A zealot, not really. An idealist, yes. A terrorist, _definitely_.

And yet... once Steve had opened up and started to share some of his motives in such an earnest way, Bucky found it hard not to be swayed by his beliefs.

That was the danger of people who believed so strongly in their cause; their words, their passion could be seductive. Steve wanted equality, and he believed in justice. He had been army, before he'd gone rogue and been branded insane because of his conspiracy theories.

Clearly, Steve was disenfranchised with the institution he'd invested his life into, and felt let down by them. And with no family, orphaned young and going straight into the army first chance he got, Bucky understood that the army, the institution, had been Steve's family, his only stability. When Steve had found out it wasn't perfect, it must've sparked his conspiracy delusions, and he was having what amounted to a rebellious phase.

The problem was, Steve was a trained and highly dangerous operative, and he was putting too many lives at risk.

"Steve," Bucky said one afternoon, as their session started to run over, "you have to understand, even with the best intentions you are putting innocent lives at stake whenever you blow something up. Government property or not."

Steve shook his head sadly, and looked off to the side. "All my life, I've tried to save as many people as I can. Sometimes that doesn't mean everybody."

He turned his piercing blue gaze to Bucky, fixing him with a solemn look.

"But if we don't fight back now, against them, then there might not _be_ a next time."

"Steve..." Bucky removed his glasses so he could rub his tired eyes. "You're talking in absolutes again. Shield is–"

"Letting America slide into a full scale dictatorship," Steve cut in. "Look around. It's already a fascist state. I won't let them win, not while I draw breath."

Bucky sighed lightly, and put his glasses back on to make a quick note. He kept a poker face as he wrote down, _omg he's impossible!!!!_

Then he carefully struck the words out, because he was supposed to be a professional.

"You can't change my mind," Steve said softly, causing Bucky to look up. He offered an apologetic smile, like he was genuinely sorry Bucky was wasting his time.

"That isn't where I'm here for, Steve," Bucky told him.

"Then what are you here for?" Steve's smile became a smirk, smug enough that it made Bucky want to throw his pen at Steve's head, and also lean across the table, and...

No, Bucky could _never_ kiss his patient, not when he was physically tied to a chair and wouldn't be able to resist if Bucky wanted to kiss him.

And, God, Bucky wanted to.

He didn't know what it was about Steve; of course he was _handsome_ , Bucky wasn't blind, but looks alone didn't always do it for him. No, it was Steve's passion, his challenging and inspiring attitude, his smartass comebacks and his ridiculous smirks when he knew he'd annoyed Bucky, or when he'd made Bucky smile.

There was a spark, more than a spark between them, and it had gotten under Bucky's skin and settled there, lighting him up.

This thing with Steve, Bucky couldn't get it out of his mind, and at night he laid in bed jerking off to the fantasy of climbing into Steve's lap, kissing him as the other man was helpless in his restraints. He wouldn't be able to stop Bucky from ripping his clothes off, from getting him hard so Bucky could straddle him and ride his cock.

Yeah... Bucky was having _very_ unprofessional fantasies lately.

He had to push those thoughts aside, and focus on his patient. He met Steve's eyes and calmly replied, "I'm here to help you."

Steve dismissed him with a small shake of his head. "They'll just start up the electro-shock again. You and I have been at this for weeks now. Hydra won't wait much longer."

Bucky blinked, but tried to mask his surprise. "I haven't recommended you for other therapy."

"Doesn't matter," Steve said. "Hydra will do what it wants anyway."

When Bucky didn't reply, Steve pressed, "You know who Hydra is, right?"

"Do you?" Bucky countered, a bluff.

Steve shrugged, as best he could in his restraints. "They're Shield. The other side of the coin."

Bucky frowned at that. Maybe Steve was more delusional than he'd originally thought. "Okay, well, can you tell me more about this Hydra?"

"I'm not sure I should," Steve said quietly. "I'm worried about your safety, doc."

"I see." Bucky nodded along, made more notes in his notepad, _ffs, Steve, just spit it out already!! Note to self: look into Hydra. Re: Greek myth._

  


After their session, Bucky went back to his office; his quiet, orderly sanctuary, and he sat in his comfortable chair and stared into space for a while, thinking.

Steve Rogers needed Bucky's help, but Bucky was starting to wonder if he was even helping Steve. He read over his notes, blushing a little at the sheer unprofessionalism, and he crossed out anything too personal. Bucky was at the point of redacting himself now. What had Steve done to him?

Then Bucky took out his laptop and started to research any mention of Hydra in connection with Shield.

It must've been unfortunate coincidence that Alexander Pierce showed up unannounced a short while later, checking on him.

Bucky was surprised, but he hid it well. He had a pretty good poker face when the situation called for it. Pierce started doing his creepy, looming over Bucky thing, prying into what he'd been doing, and Bucky felt a tendril of fear curl in his stomach.

Maybe Hydra wasn't a delusion after all.

Bucky remained calm, and said that he'd been following up on his notes from a patient with psychotic conspiracy theories.

That was all.

Pierce seemed to accept that, then swiftly informed Bucky there would be a break in his sessions with Rogers while they tried other forms of treatment.

"With all due respect, sir," Bucky tried, "if you break the rapport I've built up, it could take even longer to win him back. We're starting to get somewhere."

"Unfortunately, doctor," Pierce cut in, "you haven't produced results. Don't worry, I'll assign you someone less complicated next time."

Then he left, Bucky gaping after him in shock.

Asshole, he thought.

  


Selfishly, Bucky didn't want Steve reassigned, or moved off the premises if Pierce was taking him somewhere more secure.

Bucky had no doubt in his mind that Shield did shady interrogation tactics with terrorists, and they probably did those things somewhere else, somewhere hidden and off the books.

But the problem was, Bucky now had doubts in his mind that Steve really was as bad as everyone said he was. Sure, he was misguided, but maybe with more time he'd come to realise that while his intentions were good and liberal, he couldn't just write off people's safety and lives as collateral when it suited him.

Steve's reasoning was very black and white, which was no surprise for a guy whose life had been spent in the army. Probably he'd never been shown anything else, any other reasoning.

Maybe if someone showed him another way, then there'd be hope for Steve.

Bucky went down to the tombs that evening; the secure cells where the more dangerous patients were held.

He'd brought a cup of coffee—his own, not the shit Shield had—for George, the guard on the desk, and made a good job of lying and making it seem like he was only doing a routine visit.

"Make it quick, doc," George said, then let him in.

Bucky walked down the quiet, echoey hallway until he got to a section that only had one cell; glass fronted, so he could see right in.

Steve was there, laying on his cot.

He got up when he noticed Bucky, and come right up to the glass as Bucky approached. Steve smiled warmly, and the smile lit his whole face.

"Hey, doc. Didn't expect to see you down here."

"Hello, Steve." Bucky smiled in reply, though the queasy feeling in his gut wouldn't let him be too happy. "I, uh... I'm not sure if they told you yet, but..."

"They're transferring me out," Steve finished for him. "First thing tomorrow."

Bucky swallowed past the lump forming in his throat, and nodded. "I'm sorry, Steve. This wasn't my decision."

Steve grinned wryly. "Hey, I'm only a terrorist, remember?"

Bucky rolled his eyes fondly. "Still. I just wanted to..." He shrugged, unsure what to say. "I wanted you to know I'm sorry."

Steve was quiet a beat, then said, "It's okay, doc. But I do know one thing that'll make me feel better."

"Oh?" Bucky questioned.

"Yeah." Steve grinned wickedly. "Let me see you with your hair down, just once."

Bucky blinked in surprise. "Excuse me?"

"Your hair." Steve gestured to his head. "It's always so neat and tidy, and I kinda want to see it all loose and messy."

"Messy?" Bucky repeated, a little scandalised and a lot thrilled.

Steve grinned, his eyes sparkling. "Aw, go on, doc. Where's the harm? I bet you look real pretty with it down."

Bucky blushed, his cheeks growing hot quickly. "No, I... I better not, Steve." He cleared his throat. "I better go now."

"Suit yourself," Steve said, then called him back as Bucky turned to go. He cupped his hands on the glass and breathed against it, misting it up. With his index finger, he hastily drew something.

Bucky watched, rapt, and smiled when he recognised the drawing was a simple rose.

"I'd give you a real one if I wasn't in here." Steve indicated to his cell. "Thanks for stopping by though."

"You're welcome," Bucky said. "Goodbye, Steve."

"See ya, doc." Steve waved good naturedly, though he looked a little downhearted as he turned away.

Bucky hurried off, because he felt full of warring emotions that he had to go sort through on his own.

It was perfectly normal, he reasoned, to have developed feelings for a patient. He was only human, and these things tended to happen. The important thing was not to act upon those feelings.

Because that would be _very_ unprofessional.

  


~

  


Steve sat in his cell alone, feeling sorry for himself.

He didn't regret his life choices. Or, he hadn't until he'd met Dr. Barnes. Now, Steve was wishing he'd had more time with the doc, the first person who'd ever really listened to him, and seemed to genuinely care about him. Steve found himself wishing he could make Dr. Barnes proud of him.

But... The doc worked for Shield. For all Steve knew, they'd picked him in order to get under Steve's skin, to break his resolve.

And yet, that couldn't be true, otherwise why send him away and keep Barnes out of it? Shield, Hydra, whoever was in charge, they'd almost backed Steve into a corner, and they hadn't even realised.

Steve liked Dr. Barnes, and he was pretty sure had they spent more time together, he'd soon have Steve wrapped around his little finger.

Steve sighed to himself, and laid back on his cot to stare at the ceiling.

It was just wasn't meant to be.

  


Steve couldn't sleep that night. It was nearing three am, and he couldn't stop thinking about how pretty the doc had looked when he'd blushed earlier today. Steve smiled to himself, and imagined what Barnes looked like with his hair down, as he'd been imagining rather a lot lately.

He pictured Barnes going home to relax, taking off his suit jacket and removing his glasses, undoing his hair and maybe running his hand through it to get the kinks out.

Steve would definitely jerk off over that image, but he was in a glass cell and that felt kind of weird. The lights were on too, and would remain on all night because that was normal for maximum security cells. They could see him clearly at all times on the security cameras.

Didn't exactly get him in the mood.

Then, just like that, the lights all shut off, leaving only the dim glow of a blue back-up light outside in the hall.

Steve tensed. There was no sound, and the lights didn't come back on.

This wasn't protocol.

He slid off his bunk and scurried to the far corner of his cell, ready for an ambush. He expected Hydra agents to pour in, to finish him off for good, but in the gloom Steve only saw one dark-clad figure approach his cell.

The person keyed in the code to open the door, and stepped inside.

"Steve, it's me."

"Doc?" Steve rose from his defensive crouch, and cautiously approached. From the scant light available, Steve could just about see that Barnes was dressed in all black, and wearing a domino mask.

And his hair, it was loose about his shoulders.

Steve stared, and swallowed. "Um," he said, unsure what was happening right now. "What's the occasion?"

"Let me be perfectly clear," Barnes said firmly, "if you come with me now, then we do things _my_ way. No more civilians in danger. Got it?"

"Uh..." Steve couldn't form the words. What he wanted was to reach out and feel Barnes, to see if he was a dream or if he was real. "Wait... you're breaking me out?"

Barnes huffed lightly. "It would appear so."

Steve stepped close, obeying his impulse to back Barnes into the wall. "Aren't you scared?"

"Of you?" Barnes smiled, calm, even as his back met the wall and Steve pressed up against him.

"Yeah, of me," Steve grunted, reaching a hand into the other man's long dark hair. It was soft, so soft.

Barnes let him touch, even leaned into Steve's hand. "I think I can handle you, Rogers."

Steve grinned, excited at the challenge. "Oh, yeah?"

"Just kiss me already, you jerk," Barnes said, fisting a hand in Steve's shirt and yanking him in. Steve obeyed, tilting his head as he leaned in, and sealed his mouth to Barnes' perfect, pouty lips. Steve grunted with want, with desire, and deepened the kiss. Barnes opened his mouth and kissed him back, hot and heavy.

They clung to each other as they made out, and Steve nudged his hips forward, pinning Barnes to the wall with his hardening cock, grinding against him.

Barnes moaned into Steve's mouth, then he broke the kiss with a gasp. "Wait, wait," he panted. "We only got seven minutes to scram, _if_ you agree to–"

"Alright, doc." Steve smiled easily. "Lead the way."

Barnes grinned back, looking pleased with himself. "Bucky," he said. "Call me Bucky."

  


~

  


_"...D.C. Metropolitan news bulletin; the terrorist known as Nomad escaped from a maximum security prison early this morning, last spotted headed East with one unidentified male. Use extreme caution..."_

  


_"...Fox news can report that he is armed and dangerous. Citizens are advised to not approach, he is a terrorist and a threat..."_

  


_"...and our loyal radio listeners to this station will remember us talking about him before, but it looks like Nomad's group has started up again, this time with new members! We don't have any information on that, as we're not affiliated with a well known terrorist organisation, of course, but it looks like they may be changing tack in how they handle things. Reports have been flooding news stations on the files leaked online that appear to be top secret government information. The FBI is involved, the United frickin' Nations are involved, it's blowing up the 'net! Shield is going down, kids!"_

 

 

  


 

**Author's Note:**

> ~
> 
> (Just to be clear, fox 'news' is total garbage!)
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Here is a [rebloggable post on tumblr](https://jro616.tumblr.com/post/174633143370/what-we-do-for-love) for this fic
> 
> I am on tumblr [here](http://jro616.tumblr.com) and Crow-sizna (artist) is on tumblr [here](https://crow-sizna.tumblr.com)


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